Because His Touch Does Things
by holmesfreak1412
Summary: ONESHOT. Four times Ai and Conan held hands, one time she didn't want to and another time he couldn't make her… so he forcefully does.


Title: Because His Touch Does Things

Author: holmesfreak1412

Fandom: Detective Conan/Case Closed

Type: OneShot

Pairing: Haibara Ai/Miyano Shiho & Edogawa Conan/Kudo Shinichi

Rating: K

Genre: Romance, Friendship

Summary: Four times Ai and Conan held hands, one time she didn't want to and another time he couldn't make her… so he forcefully does.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Detective Conan Franchise

Notes: Written almost a year ago and the shortest of my works so which mostly are left untyped and thus unposted because I lack the inspiration. And since this requires less labor, I give this to you now. I am not sure what I feel about this yet so, mind giving feedbacks? I am thinking of posting a multichapter actually but am too lazy to do so for now xD. I really don't know if this makes sense to you but I guess you can label as a sort of an Ai character study. Not very good though, I'm, afraid.

UNBETAED so yeah, all mistakes you can notice are purely mine. Do point them out when you have the time. Pretty please?

xxx.

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xxx.

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-There are times when she would touch him and he would not break away….

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ONE

She has kept him oppressively in a distance all along, Ai realizes as she watches her four new classmates with something akin to exasperated curiosity (if one can ever be tired of being inquisitive about little things). She has never made an effort to touch any of them in her two weeks as the newest transferee student of Teitan Elementary and this instance may as well be the first time, At another circumstance, she might not have been bothered. But as she watches them join hands for fun, having not an ounce of idea how much that physical contact means to her, she grasps the epiphany about how she has neglected this form of intimacy all this time. Not to Kudo. Not even to Hakase. She never tried. She never did even notice and that thought scares her in a manner only she can understand. She never tried touching any of them. Maybe part of her didn't really want to. Either way, Ai knows she will be very uncomfortable once she finally takes note that they actually touch, as amiable acquaintances do from time to time. As friends are used on doing. Mostly, she blames the discomfort to her apprehension about being too protective of herself, utilizing a manner of detachment from what she knows is inevitably coming after when she lets her guard down. But she never would have thought she actually succeeded going this far. No, she wouldn't be surprised if it's true she never did touch Kudo before. There never had been any special reason then and words are like their forte. They talk not touch, But she is unsettled nevertheless, particularly to the fact that she only saw through it just now. And like everything else, a tad too late.

After all, a mere touch turns things into dust as much as it creates gold and beauty. It creates. It destroys. A touch is anything and everything and Ai has learned enough from the tale of King Midas to believe that it will probably end as a curse. In her case, she thinks it is bound to happen. More often than not, she manages to wreck destruction when she tries to assemble. It must be a pattern, as irrational as it sounds, she always tells herself. So Ai doesn't take any chances. And so she does not touch. Until now, she had no idea that she went on these pains this much. Today, she realizes with some dismay that she won't be going any further.

But then whenever she was alone, laying in a bed the Professor insisted they share, she couldn't help but think that far from the baloney excuse she call self-preservation, she is just in reality, afraid to be touched. Really. And Ai the scientist has read one too many legit psychological journals to be as equally scared of what the implications hold. Ai, for as long as she can remember, never wanted to acknowledge that there really is something wrong with her. Her sister was once vocal about it. But if so, Akemi always noted that her younger sister was not to be blamed. Ai never did try going deeper in it though. She always thought that her oneechan was somewhat the naïve one. But she couldn't really deny that she actually meant well. After all, there is a reason why zoo apes grow up only to go berserk some time or another. They are fed by mechanical hands. They are never touched by any hands besides those who only desire to exploit them.

So when her new threesome friends challenges them two shrunken adults to a rather obviously puerile arm-wrestling fight one rainy day, she sees it both as the perfect moment to conquer some fears and as a chance to prove something to herself. For both reasons, she grows apprehensive. One time wouldn't hurt, she says to herself. And playing a game, however too childish and despite being tired of pretending already after two weeks is going to be a welcome change for her. They all stare at her expectantly. Even Kudo, who is supposed to be on her side if she plans to hail a disapproving frown to the invitation, is waiting for her answer with an odd smirk. He told her once that she would eventually get used to this, being the Professor's little girl now and all. That twitch of the mouth probably indicates such. Kudo is so good in this kind of pretext that it has become her consolation when things are harder for her.

She feigns nonchalance, fully justified annoyance even, so nobody makes a celebratory big deal when she finally agrees and pushes an adamancy to go last. She also tells herself not to make a big deal out of this too. This is just a game, she insists to herself as Kudo continues to stare at her strangely. This is just a game. She can feel her insides flip. This is just a game, she repeats like a mantra. This is just a game. After a while, she will be holding somebody's hands now. Part of her is afraid she would break them. This is just a game. Because that is what she's good at, right?

She procrastinates, yes. But she tries not to run away.

Mitsuhiko-kun goes first, beating Genta-kun somehow. For a scrawny little guy like him, he sure is hiding some brawls. Ayumi-chan loses to Kudo next, as expected. Genta-kun's arm ends up over the latter, much to Ai's amusement despite her will to stay as a spectator. Then Mitsuhiko lets himself be beaten by Ayumi this time. The little girl smiles at him, ecstatic. He blushes back. Meanwhile, Kudo demands for a rematch. Ai thinks it is amazing how the little tantei could be that way whenever he wishes. Like an epiphany, she realizes that it is the only thing that makes all of this bearable.

So, somehow, she doesn't want him be destroyed when she gets too close to him.

As her turn comes, she isn't very surprised when the clever fate (or the fact that these kids only wants to witness a showdown between them) matches her with Kudo himself. Yes, this makes things theoretically harder than it is. Kudo is as fragile to her as he is indispensible. This is just a game, she reminds herself. And yet she can't shake the fear that he will dissolve as everything else she held dear did someday.

But when they finally clasp hands and brush into each other, Ai somehow comprehends this doesn't make a difference one way or another to what she deems inevitable anyway. So they touch. No, she does not feel the telltale electric jolt or the desire to memorize the way his hand feels under hers. No. None of those clichés depicted at first contact. It just feels normal. She feels like a baby reaching for her mother the first time, holding for dear life.

So yes, she doesn't hesitate much when they start to compete for domination. Mitsuhiko cheers for her naturally. Genta roots for "Conan". Ayumi only pretends indecision.

When he wins the first time, Ai finds herself reaching for him then and fools him to try her for a next round. For a second, he looks like he has seen a hydra growing another head before he sighs in resignation and gives her a smile that only meant that he's not surrendering to her kind. Kudo can be such a child sometimes.

This time she is serious and she beats him, enjoying the triumph of deflating a certain detective's ego and being more of herself while keeping their charade intact. But then he was as serious. Their match lasts for quite a while, each becoming their old (older?) selves as they stared into each other's eyes and held hands. Without their knowing, they are feeling like the adults that they really are amidst each other.

She puts his arm down and smirks tauntingly in victory. He only pouts with a glare, sulky.

Much later, as they talk about the greatness of Kamen Yaiba, Kudo sits next to her. Her skin feels his presence as she perceives his heat. And against her better judgment (or more biased, superstitious one, she admits), it feels good. It really does because right now, it seems like his touch is like breathing fresh air after being locked for a really long, long time. Sanity, indeed.

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TWO

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Growing up, Miyano Shiho did not really breathe much fresh air or what sort of oxygen her older sister told her to still exist in their dystopia of a world. She, as she is established as, stayed in most of the time, studying life and death and how to evade the limits of both without even considering the consequences. She wasn't very credulous and spectral back then. And she took more risks in the name of a misleading aim. Look, what it cost her now. When she went out, all she could smell were noxious flames of a society gone mad though. Back then, Miyano Shiho saw the worse of the things she had no control with and the fantastical best of those she thought she had her governance,

So when she does feel really fresh air (the literal with the fragrant flowers and such) for the first time, she was very much overwhelmed. Agasa's driver license takes her to more places than her library book card ever did. For the first time, she can touch everything that is beautiful and not be petrified that they will disintegrate into nothingness as most other things did when she held them. Nature is great, she knows now. And it's even greater than the Organization itself. As Haibara Ai, she learns more perspectives on how to view the world not only as a bystander but also as one on the dance floor. For once, death to her is no longer a natural process. She learns to grieve for each and everyone, even for criminals who made the same mistakes as she did herself but only were not as lucky as her. She was given a chance, after all.

But she knows, this is not for eternity. She still catches a cold every now and then notwithstanding the sudden alteration of her lifestyle. Or maybe because of it itself. She gets the plague so often, becomes delirious and over her head in those times; she learns to regard this sudden illness as bad omens. Kudo did tell her once she appears to possess some kind of a sixth sense. And Ai buys the idea if only to console herself of having an extrasensory foresight of what is afoot. She hates the feeling though. Knowing things make her grief worse, more consuming than the temporary happiness whenever she forgets to remember.

` She isn't really astonished then when her hands find his in her turmoil during their first encounter with the Organization. A fever. A nightmare. A sense of oblivion. A terrifying vision. A soccer ball. And as it is the ultimate straw, a Porsche. In her premonition. Gin talks about her favorite color and it gives her cold feet about how he knows her than much. The foreboding starts in fear and ends with blood. She sees it as clearly as the red ink of a wall handwriting. Kudo perishes right before her eyes in the presentiment, as well as every person she has ever touched. Yes, she knows that Gin knows her that well enough to be cognizant of the fact that it is the most twistedly beautiful way possible to kill her. He likes his victims tortured beforehand.

She is already drowning in the sinking feeling when Kudo's voice brings her back to life. It doesn't take much for her to tell him of her augury and as though he knows it is coming, it is just as easy for him to come up of a story about Superman and let her wear her eyeglasses to inspirit her soul. He assures her that he is going to be the hero of this piece and his confidence, however beguiling with all these portent, makes her feel lesser remorse of her own demise. She can grasp the fact that above everything else, she desires for the little detective to live on. He can do that. So she reaches for his hand and surprisingly, he lets it linger there for as long as it takes her to compose herself.

She remembers that old legend about handshakes where old adversaries clasp hands in order to prove they are empty-handed and only means peace. No weapons. No war. Open arms. But it's essence still lives on. A touch makes her feel safer, more secure to the point that she no longer is afraid of death itself.

She likes to think that when she dies, he will be sorrowful, maybe should be happier than that even. Not only guilty. Because even he, knows that his touch is solace to her more than anything else is.

…

xxx.

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-But then there also comes other times that she will not and then with that, he feels empty and it confuses him…

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ONE

…

Solace for her, is a comfort for sorrow. Like a hot chocolate in winter. Or an oasis in a desert. But to her delight (read: she likes him imperfect), Kudo is not always an embodiment of that term. Always, he is only just a thwarting annoyance, going around with that know-it-all attitude as if that makes him superior in any way. At some point, she hates him too. And no, it doesn't make him all the more perfect for her at all.

But there is something else in Kudo that makes her drawn to him. She knows she should not be. He has her princess. And she is nobody but his way to get there. But as she learns to love the way her cowlick stood up relentlessly, his brooding eyes, his cocky attitude and his touch, she just can't help the feeling from crawling in. She falls in love of his hardness, his softness, his strengths and his weaknesses. She falls in love with the fact that he is everything in one. At any rate, before she even knew it, she already loves him and it's all because of his uncanny ability to make her love anything at all in the first place.

Kudo acts all oblivious of course and even so, Ai is glad, even though at one side, it makes her despise him even more. She still hates the way he cowers in fear whenever she is angry at him for little things, thinking that he should do better than that of all people. Most times, she hates him for just being Kudo Shinichi at all and how his touch does some things it shouldn't in the first place.

But then, it is succor enough for her to know that more or less, in their relationship, she has morphed into more than that little girl he is obligated to protect for himself. One night, she catches the ominous cold again and this time around, she finds him watching over her, sitting on a ledge, gazing at the stars. She asks him why. In answer , he only murmurs in explanation something about making her feel safer and knowing the nightmares he had been busy warding off that other fateful night shall resurface again. He says all of this with an emotionless drone, something she likes to think is the distinction that is special between only her and Kudo, because they are both people of few words. She knows everything of it is true, as well as the obvious implication that he sees her likewise as vulnerable. It is but the last straw to realize that he cares for her welfare too.

However, she knows better than to let herself go farther than conventional rationality to hope beyond that because to her, a fairy-tale ending for someone like her is something like an inconceivable will-o-the-wisp. No, she does not delude herself to say that she prefers other people getting theirs at her expense. But she knows that if it is Kudo, she will not hesitate to let go. Just like her sister. She loves him that much. She hates him that much too.

So when Kudo offers his hand as she slides out of the car one night, she refuses to take it. Nor does she look at him long enough to see his boyishly delighted face shift into a baffled, defeated countenance as he slowly drops his arm. She just lets him wallow of derision of her supposed pride as she knows that is better than making him culpable of the truth. After all, Kudo believes that life can be fair and just, and with that, he will surely try in vain to make hers. And she knows it will be doomed from the beginning so she wouldn't allow that.

She cannot let that small gesture of kindness mean to her more than it really means to him. A boy asking for a girl's hand? No, symbology is not always true.

She walks ahead of him and tries not to imagine (fantasize about?) the look in his face as she draws away from him. No, it's not about pride or any other less forgiving emotion he must be attributing to her now. No. She is just afraid. He should know. Because his touch might just be enough make her forget that he cannot really love her that way he loves the Angel.

xxx.

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-So when he holds her hand, he never lets go...

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THREE

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Ai watches the film All About Eve on TV one night and it makes her recognize solace more as somebody who has ran all the way.

Nothing romantic in there. Nor does she care much about the fact that she regards solace more as a whom than a what. At the moment, all she can think of is that she wants whoever it is (read: Kudo) to be worthy as a comfort for all the sorrows she will suffer, So to speak, she would like to see him try. Really.

True enough, Kudo does live up to expectations. Like the noble director to the disgruntled actress in the movie, he comes running all the way before her consuming angst and ticking bombs blow her into bits, breaking into glass and holding her tight as they rush to do what is otherwise impossible at any other circumstances and if he is not Kudo Shinichi himself. The glass breaks, blood is spilled, pandemonium erupts, lies to save her are made and then Kudo tells her softly, still as frigidly as ever, that fate is something she shouldn't run away from. He phrases it as if she does have a choice but she knows that she really doesn't. Like it or not, Kudo is already her destiny. The moment he held her hand as he drags her away from what will be seconds later a disastrous conflagration, their threads of fate are already bonded together. And he wants her to know that.

He wants her alive.

But Ai doesn't really have the qualms against that. His touch is always worth living for after all.

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FOUR

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And it is worth dying for as well.

It is always in her dreams and as sappy as it may sound, she cannot think of nothing else more resplendent than dying in his arms once her time comes. There is that alluring quality in the prospect as one lets his magnificent touch dawdle on her memories because to her, it is the next best thing she can remember having in her life other than being awarded with a chance to just be with him. To have her face etched forever in her fading consciousness. Kudo told her once that Akemi died smiling. Ai concludes that the trust her late sister had for him together with the touch he must have given her to condole her in her last moments is the thing that made her so. From the moment she heard that, Ai know that when she dies, she'll die that way.

Kudo never lets her though and she makes her see the day when everything she has lived for all along finally bear fruit.

That day, he comes up beside her and smiles that brilliant, complacent grin that she has long since discerned to tell her to just believe. This is a game. They will win. Despite everything that is happening, all the deaths, the dead-ends and today's danger, he still has that infuriatingly, happy (happily, infuriating?) aura radiating around him as he bounces towards her. He tells her about tonight's plans or at least what he only needs her to know, not elaborating on where she need not be concerned and rather making her measly involvement seem big to tranquilize her beating heart, This time, she also does not get into the warning rant about consequences that he doesn't even care about. Instead, she tells him, stories she makes up impromptu about his future with Ran, and no, it doesn't make her feel worse because she already accepted her loss. No, she is not really tricking herself that he will react differently. And yes, she is really, really happy when he smiles a real smile. (read: sarcasm should be duly noted)

He reaches for her, takes her hand and entwines it with his. No, she does not feel like crying. He is still smiling. And she knows she should be happy for him.

"Let's pray. Shall we?" he asks and he doesn't wait for any incredulous answer from Ai. He leans his forehead to hers and murmurs things that she understands in an instant, that while perhaps Kudo doesn't really believe that there is a God watching, watching over them, he wants to reckon on the fact that there is an entity even bigger than the seemingly insurmountable darkness that is engulfing them. He is praying for hope. To him, to know that someone might be up there appreciating their work makes the future more reliable, even if they fail.

So Ai prays back and doesn't let go of him any sooner. It feels good, because in all the misgivings she is feeling, she knows that of all things, his touch is the one that inspires her the faith she really needs,

xxx.

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-But there just are times, he just fails… No. Not really...

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ONE

Everything is over

Staring at her mournfully as she slowly pulls away from his embrace- something he compulsively did out of his delight for the permanence ("Not really." she denies, always the pessimistic mess) of her safety; he briefly wonders how many touches it will ever take for him to make her realize what he means with every little her, he is never really is a man of words. But then, maybe his touch doesn't really convey everything after all.

He sees something in her face and remembers one thing his mom always told him. It's easier to pretend to be sad than to feign happiness. Ai tries (in vain) to force a tight smile for him but he sees through it easily and he knows that as the saying goes, false felicity hurts more than what she would have performed well otherwise- some fake crying.

He doesn't know it himself, everything just fuzzes in a quick blur but before he can stop, he is drawing her closer and meets her lips with his own.

Now, that tells both of them just the right thing, he knows. Enough touched.

xxx.

END

Note: The last phrase, should it need explaining is derived from the commonly used expression "Enough said." So I guess you know what I mean? Don't forget to leave a review everyone. It makes my day. Who knows? Maybe I'd get inspired again and post another. *conspiratorial wink.


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